Breaking Barriers
by InterruptedProgress
Summary: He needed a subject for his video, she needed to break free of her cage. He was secretly in love with his muse, she had no idea he existed. She needed a model for her painting and he was more than willing to pose in the nude.
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, so I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is starting a new story when I still have to update "Remember to Forget". However, this idea wouldn't let me alone until I had written it. This is just a preview, I don't plan on updating this one until after I finish the aforementioned story. This is my first Third Person story so any feedback would be appreciated._

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**Breaking Barriers-**

_Chapter One-_

Jasper Whitlock frowned down at the paper in his hands. He wasn't sure what the large red 'C' on his history report meant, but he felt anger bubble up inside him as he read the teacher's side note.

'_The South lost, Mr. Whitlock. It's about time you accepted it._'

He crumpled up the paper and stuffed it haphazardly into his bag, not caring that his mother would be upset by the wrinkles when he gave her the paper later that night. Mrs. Whitlock was a stickler for order.

Scowling, he laid his head down on his desk, silently wishing that his teacher wasn't so narrow minded in his views.

_Damn Yankee._

Jasper glared at his teacher, who was blissfully unaware of his furious student as he continued grading papers for his next period class. Unsatisfied that he wasn't bursting into flames before his very eyes, Jasper reached into his bag and pulled out a thick, black three ring binder filled with several neatly typed scripts and loose-leaf rough outlines of his current projects.

He pulled out the bundle of scripts and began to leaf through them, pursing his lips every so often as he searched for something more original for the school's next production. It seemed to Jasper that the same stories kept popping up, leaving no room for originality or fresh ideas.

How many times could the school put on "Romeo and Juliet" before the actors started to revolt? Their Juliet had graduated the year before and Romeo had declared he would never wear tights again after their last performance.

It was Jasper's first year in directing the school play and he hoped to make it the first of many successful performances in his lifetime. After all, Steven Spielberg started out just like him.

The bell rang, startling Jasper from his brooding and he smiled as he realized that his next class was Drama. Standing up quickly, he placed the scripts carefully in their binder, handling them with much more care than he had his history paper, and rushed out the door.

--

Isabella Swan sighed as her English teacher handed her the reading list for the year. It wasn't a surprise, but she still felt irritated that she had read all the material prior to this class. In fact, she would probably be able to teach the subject better then the man in front of her, who was currently scribbling down the first title they would read on the white board in bold red letters.

She rolled her eyes when she realized that the book they would be discussing was the one that currently resided in her bag at the moment. English this year would be no challenge at all.

_Pity._

Isabella bit down hard on her bottom lip as she tried to stifle the yawn that threatened to break loose. She wondered offhandedly if her teacher would be terribly offended if she began reading as he spoke, but decided against it as she remembered the last time she had been caught reading in class. She hadn't gotten into trouble, she _never_ got into trouble, but she didn't want to risk it.

It was to her great relief when the bell rang and she was able to leave the classroom, having not heard a word her teacher had said, but more prepared than the rest of her classmates would ever be. She skirted off to the side of the halls as she maneuvered her way towards her French class, an elective she had eagerly taken since she had already been fluent in Spanish.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle Swan."

Isabella nodded, smiling shyly at her teacher as she entered the classroom and took her customary seat near the front of the class. French was a nice change of pace for her, something that was new and challenging. Allowing her the option of broadening her horizons and breaking down the language barrier, all the while getting graded for something that she had always wanted to do.

"Hello Isabella." A quiet, slightly nasally voice greeted as a tall gangly girl with thick-rimmed glasses and frizzy red hair took the seat beside her.

Isabella frowned slightly at her friend. She hated being called by her full name, but Abigail Winters wouldn't hear of calling her anything else. "Morning Abby."

--

Edward Masen ran his hands across the smooth black surface of his piano that resided in the Band Hall. Well, maybe it wasn't _his_ piano, but since he was the only pianist in the Band, he liked to think of it as his. A ghost of a smile could be seen as he fingered the keys fondly, touching, but not playing the magnificent instrument before him.

He knew he shouldn't be here, but the thought of going to Gym and participating in sports with the mindless jocks held no appeal to him. Edward knew that this was the music teacher's free period and he knew Mr. Travis well enough to know that he wouldn't be back from his coffee break for another twenty-five minutes.

Ensured of his solitude, he situated himself on the bench and pressed the first key slowly, savoring the sweet pure note that resonated throughout the room. He placed his left hand on the keys as well and without another moment's thought his hands began to move swiftly and expertly through a complicated piece that he had long ago memorized.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to become immersed in the music, leaving behind the stress of high school for thoughts of his brown-eyed muse. Edward had never spoken to her; he was positive that she didn't even know he existed, but ever since the day he had first laid eyes on her she had become the inspiration for his music. The sole image that could pull him from his musical slump and jump-start his pieces.

Edward started in surprise as he heard the door open and only had time to swerve around in his position on the bench before he met the frustrated and slightly amused eyes of his music teacher.

--

Rosalie Hale scowled at the tall man before her. She didn't understand why the school insisted on letting students volunteer to model for the art classes. Those who usually did rarely had one decent feature let alone the looks of someone worth painting. What was the point of an assignment called 'Beautiful' if they didn't give you something beautiful to paint?

She let out a frustrated huff and slammed her paintbrush down on the table beside her, the noise startling her fellow classmates who all glared at her for making them mess up their paintings. She ignored their dirty looks and continued to pack up her paint set, allowing the brushes and paints to clatter noisily in order to spite her peers.

No one said anything, the students were too frightened of her and the teacher had grown used to her temper. If it were anyone else, she might have been given detention, but Rosalie was one of her star students and therefore the teacher turned her head on any disruptive behavior.

The model looked on in a mixture of anger and embarrassment as Rosalie loudly declared her frustration at such a worthless subject and without a backwards glance strode out of the room, her paint set and easel in hand.

--

Emmett McCarty's eyes drooped as his head rested on his palm, struggling to keep awake as his classmates all filed into the small cramped classroom. He groaned slightly as he took in the microscopes lined up on the countertops beside him. Class hadn't even started and he was already bored to tears.

A boy he recognized from the football team took the seat beside him and they shared the same bored, apathetic looks. Emmett thought that the guy was decent enough, but their shared loathing of Biology made working with partners on lab assignments incredibly hard. Neither of them cared enough to do the work.

The door opened from behind him, but Emmett didn't bother to turn around to see his teacher enter. Why look when you didn't have to? His teacher was hideous with wrinkles covering most of her face and large purple glasses that clashed with her bright orange hair. He thought she was related to Ms. Cope, but he couldn't be sure.

However, it wasn't his carrot-top teacher that passed him when the figure made his way towards the front of the class and Emmett grinned broadly, suddenly very awake as he saw an unfamiliar and incredibly nervous looking man pick up a white board marker to write his name on the board. The boy next to him sat up straighter in his seat and sent him a wicked smile.

Substitute Teachers were always easy targets.

--

Alice Brandon curtsied daintily as her classmates applauded her performance. The smile she plastered on her face felt fake as she moved to take her seat on the floor in the back of the class. A few eyes followed her graceful movements with envy, her every step looking as if they had been choreographed. She paid no attention to them, she never did.

Their instructor praised her once more, before calling up the next dancer to perform. The girl she had called on bit her lip in dismay and stood up uncertainly. She didn't want to follow her performance. She would look like an ungraceful troll after _that_.

Alice gave the girl an encouraging smile, which was returned with a not-so-nice glare. Her smile fell and she tried not to flinch, instead dropping her gaze to her hands, which rested in her lap. She should have been used to this by now, but it still hurt whenever her peers rebuffed her.

The music began, but she didn't look up. She didn't want to let the girl know that she had hurt her. Composure was key when dealing with catty classmates.

And Alice knew from experience that a cool façade would save her more grief in the end.

--

--

Forks Academy for Boys and Girls was situated in the small upscale town of Forks, located in rainy Washington where the sun never shined and the students took the phrase stereotypes to a whole new level.

The differences in social classes weren't as obvious during class periods, although it was always there. The only way to truly know where you stood on the social ladder or how prejudiced the school really was, was to experience lunch as a student.

The large dining hall housed roughly forty tables to accommodate the students' needs. It was more for show then any true need for them. The tables were lined up in rows with on long aisle running through the middle of the cafeteria, leaving room for those coming and going.

Where each group sat was usually based upon the locations of the others.

The Geeks sat farthest away from the Jocks and Cheerleaders, for their own protection and sanity. The Choir and Dancers were usually in the top right of the cafeteria, while the Musicians were forced to sit in the bottom left. The principal made this arrangement after a few particularly violent fights broke out. The artsy group sat closest to the doors and nearest to the Theatre crowd. They tolerated each other's presence, but didn't interact.

The other groups held less of a distinction or were significantly smaller in size than the others and floated around in location on a daily basis.

This was the daily life for the students. Interaction between the classes was kept to a minimum and on the rare occasion that they were forced to mingle outside of a classroom, well Forks Academy had a solution to that as well.

A Hierarchy within the classes.

Because when order was disrupted and the classes were forced to merge-

Rank was everything.

And whether they knew it or not, there was always one person who was considered the leader of their class. Held in higher esteem by even those in the other classes if only because they were in power.

Because when order was disrupted and the classes were forced to merge-

Power was everything.

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_So there you have it. Please review and give me your opinions, I'm not quite sure what to think about this one._

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	2. Chapter 2

_Eh, so I lied. Here's another chapter, it's short, but I'm still setting up the story. For those waiting on 'Remember to Forget' the chapter is taking a while. Sorry, writer's block. As for this story, I'm not sure how often I will be updating. It's still technically a preview, but I'll update it occasionally if I happen to write a chapter. The aforementioned story is still priority._

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**Breaking Barriers-  
**

_Chapter Two_-

Jasper Whitlock stared up at the empty stage in contemplation. His papers were scattered around him in a semi-circle, abandoned for the moment as he pondered over the assignment his Theatre teacher had given him. Most of his other classmates were planning on performing small, one act plays, but Mr. Robillard had other ideas for the hopeful director.

"I want you to direct a short film. I don't care what it's about as long as the content is school appropriate and it's at least five minutes long. This will be graded on a different scale than your classmates, but that's because I expect more from you than a half-ass attempt. I expect you to _dazzle_ me."

Aside from the bordering on homosexual verb, Jasper was flattered by his teacher's confidence in him. The only problem was that it added more pressure on him. As if he didn't put himself under enough stress already. Jasper wasn't known to be a perfectionist, his messy room certainly attested to that, but whenever it came to his passion, everything had to be _perfect_. After all, this was his life and if he was going to spend the rest of his days devoted to directing, then he had better put out his best work.

The double doors to the theatre slammed open as a little black haired blur came barreling through, startling Jasper from his reverie as she raced towards him.

"Jasper, Maravilloso!" She exclaimed excitedly. Her voice was heavily accented and Jasper smiled slightly at her as he stood up from his place on the floor.

"Maria." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I see you're back from Mexico."

The small girl smiled and tugged at her black braids that hung from either side of her ears. She was at least a foot shorter then himself and had strong Mexican features and beautiful porcelain skin. Jasper often thought of her as a china doll. Maria Jura was a sophomore, only a year younger than he was, but it was hard to tell just by looking at her. She and her sisters were some of his closest friends at Forks Academy.

"Si! Nettie and Lucy decided to skip today, but they will be back tomorrow." She glanced down at the scattered papers. "I see you've been busy."

Jasper sighed. "Yeah, I've got a few projects I'm stuck on at the moment. You wouldn't happen to have any ideas for a video assignment would you?"

She shook her head. "Sorry."

"Great."

--

Emmett McCarty whistled tunelessly, his wide form seemingly misplaced in the small folding chair he had been instructed to sit in. His eyes wandered aimlessly around the 70s style room, not lingering on any particular object for more then a second. Ms. Cope would glance up every few moments at him, her lips pursed in annoyance as she tried to concentrate on her dime store novel. His foot tapped impatiently on the orange-flecked carpet, his hands fidgeting in his lap. Emmett had always found it difficult to sit still. He needed to keep busy, something which made situations like these all the more troublesome.

So he had scared the guy a little. Weren't substitutes used to that sort of thing? He didn't see the need for this "meeting" as the principal had called it. Couldn't he have just been assigned detention and be done with the matter?

_Apparently not._

The door to the principal's office opened and a small brunette hurried out, her expression wary as she glanced at Emmett's large frame, surreptitiously sizing him up, before rushing out the office doors. He didn't notice as he pulled himself up from the chair, plastering an innocent grin on his face as he entered the small, elegantly furnished room. His eyes barely spared a glance for the fine details and added knick-knacks, instead zeroing in on the poker face of his principal.

"Mr. H, old boy! Good to see you again!" His loud, booming voice reverberated off of the walls as he slammed the door shut behind him, causing the frosted glass window to shutter slightly in its frame.

"Mr. McCarty," Mr. Heathcliff nodded tersely, not bothering to correct him. Emmett had been in his office enough for him to know that this was as close as he would get to saying his real name. "Take a seat."

Emmett loped over towards one of the plush chairs before his principal and settled into it happily. It was a snug fit, but infinitely preferable to the cheap seats they had outside the office.

"What's up?"

Mr. Heathcliff sighed and leaned over to open the top drawer of his mahogany desk. Emmett watched disinterestedly, his leg bouncing up and down impatiently. His principal rummaged through a few papers before pulling out a thick, glossy folder. He glanced up at Emmett through his thin-rimmed glasses, as if he were hoping to see a flash of recognition from the boy's eyes.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked, waving the folder slightly in the air before setting it down upon his desk and opening it. Emmett shook his head.

"Should I?"

Mr. Heathcliff didn't answer at once, taking his time to peruse through the pages before pulling out a familiar salmon colored paper. Emmett felt a flicker of comprehension. He groaned.

"Come on, Mr. H! You're not here to rag on me about my grades are you?"

Mr. Heathcliff gave him a thin smile. "Sorry Emmett."

"I don't need this lecture, I have good grades."

He raised a bushy brow at his student. "If that were the case then we wouldn't be discussing them, but rather your punishment for that stunt you pulled in class on Friday."

Emmett jumped at the subject change. "Great! Let's do that instead."

"Nice try."

He frowned, slouching further into his seat and muttered unintelligible curses under his breath as he tuned out his principal. He has had this lecture before; he has probably _memorized_ this lecture. His mother had been on his case about grades since he entered high school.

"This is no time for fooling around. If you want to be accepted into a decent college then you better have decent grades."

Of course, this was always followed by his dad butting in to point out that Emmett could probably get into any college on a football scholarship. That's how he had been accepted into Forks Academy. The McCarty's were a typical middle class family with a steady income. However, with five children it would be almost impossible to send them all to college unless they had financial aid. Emmett was no idiot; he knew that he was lucky to have this opportunity and he would be a fool to waste it. On the other hand, Biology was incredibly dull. In all of his other classes he managed to find something that could hold his interest, at least enough to get him to care, but Biology was different.

Emmett shifted in his seat, his shaking leg becoming more pronounced as his boredom grew. He glanced at the small clock on Mr. Heathcliff's desk, wondering how much longer he would be forced to sit here.

"Are you even listening to me, Emmett?"

He snapped his eyes to his principal's face. "What?"

He sighed. "Let me get straight to the point then." Finally! "You're a bright boy, Emmett. You are a little impatient and have a tendency to break the rules, but I like you. I don't want to see you lose what you have here."

Emmett sat up a little straighter in his chair, eyeing the man in front of him suspiciously. What did he mean, "lose what you have"?

"Which is exactly why I am assigning you a tutor."

"What?" He barked out in disbelief. "You can't be serious!" An image of a gangly boy with greasy black hair, suspenders, and a bad case of acne came to mind. He shuddered at the thought.

"Oh, but I am Mr. McCarty." Mr. Heathcliff said, his voice becoming firm as he watched his student become increasingly agitated. "Either you bring up your grade in Biology or you're off the team."

"You can't do that! I need that scholarship!"

"Then I suggest you set up a time with you're new tutor." Emmett watched through narrowed eyes as his principal pulled out another file from his drawer and handed it to him. He took it grudgingly, before heading towards the door.

"Just a minute there, Emmett."

He turned his head.

"There's still the matter of your punishment."

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_Thoughts? I'm still not sure what to think.  
_

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